


the miracle of death

by goodnightfern



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20 coda, Canon Compliant, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, i didnt watch any of jacks seasons, i wrote this in thirty minutes hungover and posted it directly to ao3, just stop, look at how easily we can do this, shoutout to the DOG, still threw him a bone, um???? help i, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightfern/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: They say in Heaven love comes first, but Heaven sure ain't a place on earth.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	the miracle of death

**Author's Note:**

> what????

Dean drives in love.

Easy in his lungs, warm in his blood. When he rolls the windows down love comes in. When he turns up the radio love pours out.

It’s in the cluster of bees around a patch of daisies when he pulls up to a Gas-and-Sip. _The_ Gas-and-Sip, only Castiel isn’t here all broken and fallen in a dirty sleeping bag. It’s in the fact that the Impala doesn’t even need gas. Heaven’s Construct #45 smiles at him and says, try the pie. Sixteen varieties, all delicious. On the TV where he might’ve once seen the news or the game is an episode of Dr. Sexy - his favorite one. Because Cas knows that. Because Cas loves him.

He wolfs down a wedge of caramel apple pie while Dr. Sexy confesses to Nurse Joy that he’s tired of being objectified just because of his name. His real name is Sixoloupolousia and his parents, fresh off the boat from Greece, shortened it to something cute and catchy, easy for the Americans to pronounce, and then Dean rolls off the counter and heads back to the Impala.

Bobby said Cas is somewhere out here. Just down the road, Dean bets.

The radio is playing all his favorite songs. The road curls north into a dense thicket of pines. An elk runs across the road and the Impala’s brakes don’t squeal. The elk comes up to the window, tries to stick its head in but the antlers don’t fit, whuffs out a hot nosy breath and there is Castiel.

He laughs. He shoves it out and rolls up the window and drives deeper into the woods. Follows a crest into a great shock of light, blue on blue, and he remembers how scary these coastal mountain highways get when you break out of the trees right on a cliffside hairpin turn and some motherfucker has their brights on only there’s no one, no fear, the light softens for him and there is Castiel.

Castiel’s ocean is playful and this road is safe. The Impala hugs the lines on her own, Cas steering her gently so he can stick his head out the window like (and he misses his dog, is she even - nope, there she is, right in the backseat) Miracle is right now so they can watch the dolphins jump.

The cliffs turn to slopes, to peaceful dunes and bluffs littered with cows. Why the cows, Cas? Isn’t this Heaven? No one has to die, surely not a cow, Cas can magic up all the bacon but yeah, that’s right: Jack used to perk up in the backseat and offer Geeky Angel Bovine Lectures. Sammy used to smear his face on the window and shout: “COWS!”

Three-year olds. Gotta love them. Gotta love Cas too, for remembering.

The Impala slows to a stop. A perfect stop, just a quick stroll down the bluff to a sweet little beach, not too rocky. A clean log of driftwood and a picnic basket Miracle finds first. The burger is hot and the fries are still crispy and Dean thinks, really, Cas? and gives Miracle a greasy handful.

Somewhere out on the water a humpback breaches and part of Dean thinks holy shit, whale, he’s always wanted to see a whale, and another part of him rolls his eyes and says, really, Cas?

He wipes special sauce and burger grease off his chin and says -

And that’s when it hits him.

Cas is _Castiel_ now. Multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. Glass-shattering earth-breaking fully-winged-and-glorious Angel of His Goddamn Son. As pure and perfect as the day he was made, a whole six point one friggin’ billion years ago until he ran into this little monkey and fell.

Fell hard and fast and even if Dean told him right now: you could’ve had it, Cas, anywhere anytime, any way you wanted it, you could’ve had it, we could've _made it_ it’s too late.

Yeah. Well. What the hell, right. So what. He’s just another monkey in the bubble now. Coulda shoulda woulda. The love is still here. That all-encompassing eternal love none of the angels ever had. Only Castiel. What does Dean want now? What else could he ask for? Grubby little monkey things?

Castiel is here the way Jack is here. Every raindrop and blade of grass. In the extra pickles and melted cheese. Sure.

The whale slaps its big fat tail and Miracle barks. Dean smiles. Laughs. Wipes his eyes. Wipes burger grease on his jeans and it doesn't even stain. Turns back to the car to see if Cas remembered the beers or if Jack left him some apple juice and as he’s coming up the bluff he sees someone else grinning and leaning on the car.

Dean freezes.

Cas drums his knuckles on the hood and says his name.

**Author's Note:**

> ....and then they... you know. shoutout to destiel, twelve years of marriage. give these crazy kids some privacy.


End file.
